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Better beach than Nudgee,I add, trying to sound nonchalant.

Maybe I’ll sleep in Porter's bed tonight.

Would that be fucked up?

The door is locked when I try.

I return to my room, sulking.

I’m so miserable, I don’t even feel like a wank.

Laying on my side, I wait for another message.

Ping.

Landed safely, darl, Beth writes.Miss you already. Talk soon xx

Miss you too,I say.So much.

Not a peep from Porter.

I fall asleep with the phone in my hand.

???

Tap tap tap.

It takes me a moment to register the sound.

Tap tap.

Tap tap tap.

The room is still dark when I open my eyes.

Barely four in the morning, according to my radio clock.

A pair of boots shuffle on the other side of my door.

“Franko?”

I stumble across the carpet and give the knob a twist.

“Nope. I have a better ass,” Porter grins.

My dreams are getting so vivid.

This one almost feels real.

“Three nights without you is too long,” he whispers.

An affectionate hand ruffles my pillow-warped hair.

Halfway through our kiss, I reach out to touch his arm.

“Not a dream,” I mumble.

“Not a dream, no,” he laughs.